Yes, my Thane
by Blissful Imperfection
Summary: Ciel just entered the land of Skyrim yet he already gets pulled in the war with dragons. However, to help him out in this struggle, there is his newly appointed housecarl Sebastian that is ready to protect Ciel with his life. What will happen as the two of them roam the land of myths and beauty of mountains and snow? Skyrim/Kuroshitsuji crossover. Possible BL in later chapters.


**Info.**

This story is strongly inspired by videogame Skyrim and anime Kuroshitsuji yet is not directly based on the storyline of the either so no matter if you know none of these, only one or both - let your mind be open and greet the tale I am about to share, inspired by those.

Thank you in advance for taking on this journey in the land of dragons along with Ciel and Sebastian!

**Warnings**

Crossover of Skyrim and Kuroshitsuji. Contains violence. BL and hints to yaoi are possible in later chapters.

**Disclaimer.**

I don't own Kuroshitsuji or Skyrim nor do I make any money with this. The story has been written purely for entertainment.

**Yes, my Thane.**

People often tend to believe that in cities where everyone knows each other by names and faces, strangers are unwelcome and looked upon with clear distrust whenever they interrupt the peace. I remember my own home being the same way, and me - one of those villagers who didn't really enjoy seeing outsiders. However, the positions were switched now and I was the stranger here, in Whiterun, the central city of Skyrim - a land legendary with mountains, snow and many different creatures, some of which shouldn't be bothered in their paths.

Yet, somehow the others didn't look at me like I was some kind of oddity. I became a part of the life flowing through the city the moment I entered through the gate, following the soldiers that returned from the battle. Only some of the locals seemed uncertain about my presence because of the blood and dirt I was covered with. To those people I could be a threat - a war prisoner that was not even chained properly.

Yet from most of the others I earned smiles and kind words on the way. It seemed that this city was sparking with life no matter what. Whiterun was a perfect place for shopkeepers and traders to offer their goods. And they, in turn, kept the flow of people coming and going in the city, making it prosperous. That seemed to explain why everyone was welcomed - potential clients were precious for those who earned their living by selling things.

The corners of my mouth curled upward, forming a slight smirk. Business… Business everywhere. Not that it was concerning me… I had my own matters to take care of, one of those being my current aim at the very top of Whiterun where I was expected to appear in Dragonsreach. Soldiers had mentioned that Dragonsreach was the palace I could see high above everything else in the city.

To get there I had to make my way up several flights of steps that seemed to be embossed in the stone - the core of Whiterun that was mostly hidden under thin layer of rust-colored grass.

Following the lead of the military force, I watched my step. The stone of the stairs had a distinct sheen, indicating that it was wet from the moist air around the waterways nearby. I was careful enough and reached the top where a long-standing bridge led to a massive wooden gate. So this was the palace I was asked to follow to? I held my life dear so there was no questioning that _invitation_.

The couple of guards, each standing on one side of the huge gate, eyed me carefully. Even if they had the opportunity to bring their problems up in the Jarl's presence, it didn't seem to be a common practice around here. At least, the others made it seem that way. On my way up, one of the guards coming the other way teased me, asking if someone stole my... What was it again? Oh, a sweetroll. Must be some kind of a local sweet.

So this was how Whiterun worked - the small problems remained in the town - in that joyous mess of chatters, distant neighing from the stables, constant bargaining and laughter of the children. Only serious matters reached Jarl Balgruuf - the man ruling the city of Whiterun and the nearby lands. And I planned to make myself a matter serious enough to gain the right to enter the royal grounds freely.

Dragonsreach. Striding along with Jarl's personal guards as well as some of the strongest warriors, I was allowed inside as a reward for a 'decent help in the hardest battle they had ever fought'. After all, unlike the guards and some more cautious people in the city had possibly thought, I was not a criminal. Instead - I was a war hero (by an accident, to be fully honest) so the military insisted on me coming here.

However, this was ironic. Whiterun's Dragonsreach was a place that used to serve as a prison for a dragon once. And now we, the force that had just dealt one of its kind in size of a dozen grown men, walked to Dragonsreach. Not to fight more dragons this time, though. No, we simply strode to the palace some believed to be built on the bones of the dragon held captive there until the very day of its death. To be greeted here? Rewarded? Killed for knowing too much? I really didn't know. I just kept the importance of my life in mind and didn't resist.

The heavy gates opened for the victorious soldiers returning from a battlefield. I squinted my eyes to see what exactly was inside. After experiencing the bright day in Whiterun, the light of the candles that greeted us in the Jarl's castle made me unable to see for a moment as my eyes adjusted slowly to the constant shade. Only then I was able to properly look around, to experience and seize the moment.

There was a huge table right in front of me, covered with plates and bottles - various delicious foods and beverages from the entire land generously covering it. The royal family must be dining here every night. After all, not every 'common scum' would be allowed to eat from a table with choice of food this wide. Even a table here was set properly for the likes that I used to know as kings. In the land of Skyrim they were known as Jarls.

Ever since I was a child, my parents had taught me to respect those that were given the right to sit on the throne and proudly wear a crown on their heads in return of ruling and guiding cities and regions. Kings. Jarls. They were all the same to me and I did not plan to disrespect the superiors. That would go against what I had known and followed my entire life.

Keeping that last thing in my mind to help me ignore the smirks of the personal guards that noticed me among the military of Whiterun, I walked towards the throne where Jarl sat calmly. My gaze was focused on the floor. Hesitation. Were the traditions of this land permitting the commoners to raise their gazes from the wooden floor and look at their Jarl? I decided to risk this once.

Slowly, I looked up. In front of me was a middle-aged man in expensive deep red robes with peltry around his shoulders. The man had a beard and blonde hair that was pushed back a bit by the heavy golden crown. He was a true Nord, the native to the land of Skyrim. However his face did not reflect the roughness taught by the wilderness, strain of hard work and cold distrust I had seen in the other Nords I met since making my escape to this land. The Jarl Balgruuf's piercing gaze only held a bit of arrogance in it. Then again, the Jarl was not fit to face the troubles of the commoners - working out on the field to be able to feed your family and fighting off wild animals. No, nobles spent their lives in comfort. But the responsibility placed on their shoulders was far greater as well.

Despite the Jarl himself looking at me with simple interest and amusement, his personal guards eyed me more carefully from the corners of their eyes, letting the fingers ghost over the weapons attached to their armor and belts. _Try to pull something and your blood will be used to decorate the floor in red_. I understood that much from that slight hint. It was not a daily matter for someone like me to appear in front of a Jarl along with the military force, looking just like them - covered in splats of dried blood and dirt - and yet not being a war prisoner or a criminal.

...Or maybe it was the simple fact that I was still alive after a fight with the dragon that surprised and worried them?

Sadly, that was not one of those achievements in my life I was fully sure about. I don't even remember how I got pulled into the heat of the fight with the forces of Whiterun but I sure as hell did my best when flames and sound of swords clattering against the dragon's scales swirled around me all of a sudden. Then again, who would have wanted to die that young? In the end fighting was just a natural choice of a human being I was forced to make, not something I would have decided on because of my pride. I simply fought... A horrid battle, though. I remembered the entire thing clearly...

_It was impossible to forget the heavy beating of the dragon's wings that made the dust lift from the ground, engulfing everything. The surges of air from the mighty creature's wings pressed us down. Those wearing heavy armor had some trouble to remain standing, one of the men even falling to the ground. The dragon had noticed that and a moment later the solider was turned into a crisp nobody would be able to recognize. I swallowed when I saw that his iron armor had partially melted in the heat of the dragon's flame._

_That was a kind of battle where you either fought to your last breath or died. There was no escaping. The creature that came from the sky, making the ground shake under its weight was too sharp to let any of us run away. And I fought. I reached out and grabbed a sword that the defeated soldier had dropped. It was still hot and burning my gloves away with every passing second but that didn't matter. I squeezed my eyes shut, yelled and ran. _

_The following was all a blur even in my memory that seemed to have painfully carved the details in my head. I knew I was swatting the dragon's side with the heated sword, trying to forcefully hit my way through the scales while some of the more experienced warriors attacked the beast's head, hoping it would be easier to crack through._

_I knew I screamed and didn't give up my weak attack. I was afraid. Who wouldn't be? But then a sound came - a calling for something, someone. It shook everything like a thunder. And for a moment panic ceased, my mind cleared and even the time itself seemed to slow down. Just above those larger scales there was an opening big enough for a blade to penetrate. Just enough for me to-..._

_When I came back to my own panicked senses and fear, the dragon had frozen in its motions. The large body swayed back and forth. And it fell, the heavy form landing in the dust. The blood was pounding too hard in my head to hear the yell of a guard that warned to back off when the dragon's body was about to collapse. Having been too close to the creature's now dead body, I stumbled and fell next to one of the still outstretched wings._

_Before I was able to pull myself together and stand, the entire form in front of me ignated. My eyes widened. I had fought the battle with a dragon, helped to defeat that monster and now I had to burn up with it as a reward? How the hell was that fair?_

_I had closed my eyes in horror when the flames erupted so it took me a moment to realize that I was not burning. It did not even feel hot. Carefully, I cracked one eye open. Fire, parts of the dragon's body burning up in front of me, leaving bare bones behind. Burning... Without heat, yet emitting immense light. That light gathered and seeped into my own body._

_My eyes widened, breath hitching. That crazy feeling... As if my body absorbed an entire world. Images, too blurry to make out, flashes of light, curling, curving, blazing, distant voices, strong feelings and roars - I became a home for memories worth millenniums. It shook my entire being up but didn't destroy it. The power merged with my soul, making it rich and strong. And I felt myself glow from the inside like I believe no other human being ever has._

_Once again able to breathe and see properly, I looked around to comprehend the world and remind myself I was Ciel Phantomhive, the original soul in this body, not the ancient power that came with an endless power. Everyone who had survived was staring at me. Those faces smeared in blood and grim held fear and distrust but also immense admiration. I wondered why. And that is when I heard it for the first time, silent whispers repeating the same two words._

_Dovahkiin. The dragonborn._

My eyes had closed, reliving the fight once more even as I stood in the safety of Dragonsreach, far away from the dead bodies of humans and bones of the dragon left behind. Hearing the captain finish his report about the battle with 'that's all, my lord' had brought me back to reality. I realized I was safe now. Whatever had happened would become just an odd piece of history now, right? Or so I thought until my gaze switched to the Jarl to see him inspecting me with huge interest.

A heavy silence had fallen over the room and every person in it - be it Nord or Elf. You know, that heavy kind of silence when you can feel your own heartbeat and hear it increasing in speed rapidly. The heavy kind of silence when the distant candles in the corners of the room heat the atmosphere so much that sweat begins slowly dribbling down the side of your face, leaving traces in the cover of dirt. Yes, that same silence when you have no idea what the other person is thinking and it's killing you.

However, it did not seem that the Jarl was planning to make me suffer this for any longer. He finally spoke up.

"That sounds most interesting, young man. The Dragonborn... Who would have thought we would live to the day to see such an old legend arising from old stories in front of our very eyes? Then again, nobody expected dragons to wake after they had been defeated ages ago, either."

"What exactly is this 'Dragonborn'?" I forced my voice to sound as normal as possible despite the strain it caused.

"A very old legend. You can ask about that to any old woman down in the market. Or that crazy worshipper Heimskr that keeps yelling about Talos being the only god. I believe he should know Nord legends well. ...Or, if you don't want to talk to the commoners, you can always ask your housecarl."

"My-... What?" The confusion laced my voice so obviously that it amused the Jarl, making him smirk.

"Ah," the fair-skinned man in the throne gestured lazily at one of the figures standing near the throne. "Whiterun is in great debt to you, young man. I would like to express my gratitude by giving you the title of Thane and a personal housecarl to follow you in your paths and protect you in your adventures. Whiterun owes you for the lives you saved by defeating the dragon, so I will make sure to let the guards know of your new title. Wouldn't want them to think you are a part of the common rabble now."

My gaze had previously switched to the Jarl as he began reciting the words as some kind of poem and obviously felt very pleased with himself for that now. However, my eyes focused back on the actual object of my interest - the same dark figure that the Jarl had gestured at. In response to my unwavering gaze the man standing in the shade of the throne made a movement, kneeling on his knee in front of me.

"My Thane, it will be an honor to assist you and protect you with my life."

That was the first time I met Sebastian.

I cast a quick glance over my shoulder. The man walking one step behind me was quite a bit taller than myself. He appeared to be around twenty but I was too spiteful to ask him about that. I preferred to make my observations in silence. I was sure my assumptions were more or less correct so there was no real need to approve that anyhow.

Other than being obviously older than me, the housecarl Jarl Balgruuf had assigned to me was also rather handsome. Or so I concluded after seeing women of all ages eyeing him carefully as we made our way down the stone steps that connected Dragonsreach to Whiterun. Great. Now my only hope was that he would not hold me back in my way. Pretty faces rarely came with ability to fight or sharp mind. Or so they used to say...

However, this housecarl guy-... Ah, no, _Sebastian_... Yes, he did surprise me right away after we had exited Dragonsreach. He ignored the women nearly fainting near him and led me to one of the best forges one could find in Skyrim just so I could have my armor improved. Even though the gold Jarl had provided me with, along with a housecarl, was not all that much, the old man that worked in the forge still agreed to help because I was a Thane. That title sure made business easier around here. Handy.

A heavy and monotone banging came from metal clashing against metal as my old armor from the time I was not yet in Skyrim was changed into something I could actually trust with my life. Not that I craved blood and fighting but you always had to be careful in places where you were a stranger.

But the damn heavy sound that rose from the armor remaking was a pain. Literally. My head was pounding. And the smoke was too much for my lungs, used to the fresh air of forests. Damn. Like this I would start swooning like those women around Sebastian. For different reasons_, of course_.

With a sigh I finally stood and walked away from the forge, over to the wall of Whiterun and peeked outside in the wilderness. Plain ground, some forests, and several rivers but more than everything - mountains and snow as far as the eye could see. Skyrim was a frozen land, full with creatures that I was once told to never get close to. What exactly did that warning, given to me when I was still a young boy, sound like? I tried to recall.

"Trolls and werewolves that will tear you apart, spirits of ice, fire and earth you shouldn't disturb, giants that mean no harm as long as you keep away from their lands and also..."

"And also dragons that were believed to be defeated, destroyed and swallowed up by ancient mountains," it was Sebastian's voice that completed what I had been quietly muttering under my nose.

Surprised, I lifted my head to look at the black-haired housecarl that followed me - always close by yet one step behind me, respecting me even if I was younger.

"How do you know that warning?"

"Skyrim is a land full of legends, myths and stories. And magic. I just happen to know some things about of it."

"Just how many _legends _do you know?" a slight tone of interest rang in my voice.

He seemed to have noticed that tint of interest and turned to face me. A weird smile appeared on his face - amusement mixed with something... Was he judging me at that moment? Seemed so. His gaze was intense, piercing. Not the gaze of a housecarl that was supposed to be a mere servant and side-kick in battles. This man, however, seemed to have a pride of his own. Or maybe it was just arrogance of the Jarl's rubbing off onto him after serving in Dragonsreach. I couldn't be fully sure.

"You seek answers about the legends that tell about Dragonborn, don't you, my Thane?"

My eyes narrowed quite visibly. A sharp guy.

"Maybe."

"Then I would like to tell you about that legend, as much as I remember. Am I permitted to do so?"

"Go ahead." I lifted my chin in a little arrogant manner that seemed fitting to make sure Sebastian remembered his proper place a little better.

But he just smiled, leaning against the same wall and staring off at distant mountains, higher than the others I could see.

"There is an ancient Nord legend, my Thane. It is believed that dragons once soared in the sky while all kinds of races - Nords, Khajiiti, Elves and many others - walked the earth. Back then humans were as afraid of dragons as they are right now, when those monsters wake up from their slumber and once again cast shadows from above. However, there is one even dragons fear. In their tongue he is called Dovahkiin - the Dragonborn that is born with a body of a human and soul of a dragon, a human strong enough to face dragons and use their own ancient powers in a fight. We all thought that the Dragonborn was just a legend. Then again, the same way about dragons and yet... Look, my Thane."

Sebastian had lifted his hand to point at something distant. I leaned over the wall a little more, staring at the object. It was still very far yet mistaking it for something else was also impossible. A dragon flew off in direction known only to the creature itself.

I turned to Sebastian.

"So, you are saying that the fight is only beginning now and the dragon defeated nearby was the first of many?"

"Indeed, my Thane."

"Great."

I closed my eyes and inhaled the air of Whiterun, of Skyrim. This land was foreign to me - it had a different way of existing, different traditions and legends. Even the air was not like the one I was used to. Smelled like ice, smoke and wilderness. Smelled like trouble but also adventures.

My eyes opened. I decided to accept the challenge this land had thrown at me. Thane of Whiterun, Ciel Phantomhive was not a man to give up without a fight. That armor better be strong enough. We were in for a war with dragons, after all.

End of the first chapter.  
To be continued. Possibly.

(**Important!** The story will be continued **only** if readers require a continuation. If you are interested for this crossover to have more chapters in future, please follow the information on my dA page after its publishing there. Url to my dA can be found on my profile. ;)

~Bliss)


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